


wolves without teeth

by changeapproved



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:09:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23083006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/changeapproved/pseuds/changeapproved
Summary: While the Doctor resigns herself to a lifetime imprisoned and alone, her wife has other ideas.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/River Song
Comments: 29
Kudos: 245





	1. Chapter 1

Tiny windows. No doors. Empty pockets. 

Darkness save for the icy blue glow coming from the transmat hub on the floor. 

Unceasing solitude. 

When she’d said she needed a moment, this wasn’t what the Doctor had meant. 

Silence weighed down on her, and if it hadn’t been for the faint hum of electricity keeping the life support systems online she was sure she’d have gone mad from it. Still no form of communication from her jailors and she wasn’t expecting that to change. 

At the very best of times she’d never coped well alone. 

This was far from the best of times. 

On the first Earth standard day (after a number of failed attempts to get near the wiring of the transmat through who knew how many feet of steel and concrete) the Doctor had scoped out her cell. It wasn’t much to look at, but if counting every single bump on the hard surfaces of cold metal helped to keep her mind from other things then why fight it. It was all stuff that might come in handy to know for her grand escape. Her grand escape that she’d definitely get around to any minute now. Just needed to wait for her brain to catch up with her body.

On the third day (or maybe it was the fifth; what meals she was granted via teleport were too erratic count the days by) she allowed herself the luxury of sitting down. Her eyes would drift shut and she would force them to open again. Then she’d studiously ignore the way her breathing had quickened, how her hearts had started to pound. She knew she’d need to rest eventually, but she dreaded what she’d find in the thralls of sleep. Since the Time War dreams had never been kind to her. She shuddered to think how they’d treat her now.

On the eighth day (maybe) her body buckled beneath her and she crashed to her knees. She shook with fear and exhaustion and her eyes watered from the sudden pain. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go this time around. Hadn’t she suffered enough? Hadn’t she already suffered _endlessly_? Suffered for so much longer than even she knew. 

_I have broken you._ The Master’s words mocked her and she grit her teeth. _No. Like he ever could. As if she would allow him that right._

Yet broken was how she felt all the same. Shattered into a thousand pieces. Into a thousand lives she had no memory of. Even the memories she had been shown didn’t feel like her own. She was just another observer, watching over the miserable childhood of someone she felt no emotional connection to. How was she supposed to reconcile this new information with what she already knew about herself? Or thought she knew about herself. 

_Oh well_ , she thought bitterly. At least she’d have eternity alone in this cell to think about it. A life sentence. How many lives would the Judoon require? Would she be free to go when this body died of old age? Or would she be kept here until her final regeneration? Assuming she _had_ a final regeneration. Had that been something else the Time Lords had toyed with? Had they altered her DNA itself to limit her regeneration cycle? If they hadn’t what would they have done when she reached her twelfth and had failed to stay dead? Would they have just wiped her memory again? Forced her body and her mind back to that of a child’s? 

_How many lives have you had?_

Never before had she felt so violated. 

And now, thanks to the Master, there was nobody left to ask. Nobody left to _punish._

She sunk to the floor and then rolled onto her back, staring up at a black, metal ceiling. She wished she could see the stars from here. She wished she could still feel the presence of the TARDIS in the back of her mind. She wished she knew for sure that her friends had got home safely. She wished for so many things. But then, when had it ever mattered what the Doctor had wanted? 

At the same time as she told herself she wouldn’t entertain the torture of _what ifs,_ her mind swirlled with questions and with things she should have done differently. She’d tried so hard with this regeneration to be the kind of person she could be proud of. Her last body had held such high hopes for her, and she’d failed him at every turn. Except for the running part. The Doctor had always been exceptional at running. Running away from her problems. Running away from her friends concerned enquiries into her wellbeing. Running away from the deepening emotional connection she shared with them, knowing it would only hurt her more in the long run. She was a coward. Had been for as far back as she could remember. How proud she was of that fact had always varied from moment to moment.

A hollow laugh rang out, echoing eerily against the walls. It took her sluggish, oversaturated brain more than a few seconds to realise that the sound was coming from her. _And now I’m losing my mind._

Because of course she was. Of course all it took was a few days inside her own head to do what in thousands of years the Master had never quite achieved. He hadn’t broken her. He’d been wrong about that in the way he was wrong about so many things. The Master had never been her best enemy. That dubious honour had always belonged to herself. 

* * *

It was almost embarrassing how easily River slipped through the prison’s defence systems. A dash of hallucinogenic lipstick here, a low level perception filter there and a phenomenal level of skill everywhere else and she was a step away from having a red carpet rolled out for her by the guards. This hellhole had nothing on Stormcage, and even that had been child’s play. She’d already had a root around the Doctor’s confiscated personal effects and retrieved his sonic screwdriver (a new one with a very interesting choice of design) without incident. The lack of challenge was somewhat disappointing. It had been a long time since she’d staged a good prison break.

Hopefully the Doctor hadn’t already broken himself out because she was rather hoping to play the dashing hero today. She’d left him in there to stew in there for an extra few days to maximise the gratitude he’d feel from her dramatic rescue. She loved it when a plan came together. 

She re-applied her lipstick (the normal kind this time) and winked at her reflection on the revoltingly greasy, metallic kitchen wall. Then she activated the transmat beam they usually used to send food into the prisoner’s cells. Adjusted, of course, to account for something a little larger than a dinner tray.

In the blink of an eye she materialised into the Doctor’s sterile, claustrophobic cell. 

And the ‘hello, sweetie’ died on her lips. 

The woman sprawled on the floor didn’t even open her eyes. 

A few calculations flew through River’s mind. She thought she knew all of the Doctor’s companions. Or knew _of_ them at least. Even in the dim lighting she was sure she would recognise such...peculiar attire, even if she’d only ever seen it in a photograph before. A companion of the future, perhaps? Based on the deep lines on the woman’s face she was a bit older than he’d normally recruit. Attractive though, which seemed to be an absolute must if one wanted to travel with the Doctor.

Seeing no reason to speculate any further, River cleared her throat. The woman’s eyes shot open and she scrambled to her feet. Or at the very least she _tried_ to; instead her legs became tangled in her long, grey coat and she stumbled back to the floor. It would have been comical had River not been hit by a sudden wave of pity. Frantic confusion rolled off the woman with a force River could almost feel.

Had the Doctor really left this woman here to rot? 

She wished with any certainty she could say no, but it wasn’t unprecedented. 

“Hello,” she said, gently so as not to spook the woman, who looked seconds away from a panic attack. It was hard to believe that the Judoon had looked at this skinny blonde bedecked in rainbows and their immediate thought was to lock her in the most secure area of the prison in eternal solitary confinement. Looks, of course, could be deceiving. She’d have to tread carefully.

The woman shuffled backwards and then used the wall to pull herself to her feet. Even with the support she looked like a stiff breeze could have knocked her right back down again. Her wide, hazel eyes stared at her and, through the obvious haze of confusion and fear, River was sure she could detect a hidden intelligence there. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” 

Yorkshire accent. Voice thin and strained, as though she hadn’t spoken in days. 

“That’s a funny way to greet your rescuer,” said River. She cocked an eyebrow. “Well, your intended rescuer. Unless this rudeness gets shelved I may very well change my mind.” 

The woman made a quiet noise of distress and bowed her head so a curtain of greasy blonde hair concealed her face. River pushed aside the niggling guilt and glanced down at her watch. They’d need to pick up the pace soon if they wanted to escape before the prison warden realised her intentions weren’t quite as previously advertised. 

“I can’t tell whether this is some kind of cosmic punishment or cosmic pity,” said the woman. 

_Right._ “Did the Doctor put you here?” asked River. 

“Or a joke,” the woman continued. Her voice cracked. “Yeah. I think that’s the most likely. Just one thing after another, isn’t it?” 

River frowned. “Look. You’re clearly going through something right now. Do you want to stay here and wallow or do you want to come with me? You’re not exactly who I was looking for, but I don’t want this to have been a wasted trip. Unless you know what cell the Doctor is being held in?” 

The woman pressed a hand to her face and heaved in a deep, struggling breath. “What’s your escape plan?” 

“Vortex manipulator. I’ve already taken down the outer shields. Are you really in a position to be picky?” asked River.

“Not in a position to move around very much, actually,” said the woman. Hand still pressed firmly against the wall, she straightened up. “Pretty tired. Don’t want to slow you down.” She looked up, and River found herself strangely drawn to her gaze. “Are you really here?” 

“Of course I’m here,” said River. A sudden creeping suspicion sent tingles across her brain. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

The woman shrugged her shoulders, and then finally pushed herself away from the wall to stand on her own two feet. Her grubby coat fell around her and she thrust her hands into the pockets of her trousers. The glow from the transmat hub cast eerie shadows across her face. “Usually you aren’t.” 

“You’ve seen me before then?” asked River. Something uncomfortable curled in her stomach. 

The sonic screwdriver had been in _her_ belongings. She hadn’t once asked who River was. Her Doctor (the one she’d left sleeping back on Darillium) _had_ told her he’d been granted a new set of regenerations. And the clothes were characteristically ridiculous. 

“Oh I see you all the time,” said the woman. She swayed a bit and then clicked her tongue. “Probably shouldn’t have spent the last few days lying down. Think my legs have forgotten how to move properly.” 

River swallowed and crossed the floor between them, only stopping when the woman was within touching distance. For a moment it looked like she might dart away, her face twisting nervously. River reached forward and gently tilted the woman’s chin upwards until their eyes met. The mixture of emotion contained in them was hard for River to get a grip on. Exhaustion. Fear. Defeat. A few other things too. 

“Doctor?” she said, tentatively. Still not quite sure. 

The woman’s responding smile was achingly sad. “Hello, sweetie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know in the episode it's deffo gonna be Jack involved in this rescue, but I just can't get River out of my head so...
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

River didn’t bother waiting around for further explanation. She slapped the vortex manipulator on her wrist and then wrapped her arms around the woman. No. Around the _Doctor._ There were more important things to worry about, but River couldn’t help but notice the way she stiffened under her touch. The way he sometimes used to when he was all chin and floppy hair.

“Where’s your TARDIS?” 

The Doctor told her and, despite not recognising the area, she dutifully typed in the co-ordinates. They disappeared in a flash of light, time and a type of static electricity that sparked off the ends of River’s curls. 

“Cheap and nasty time travel,” was the first thing the Doctor said when they rematerialised on the planet. She released her hold on River and took a step back, holding a hand up to shield her eyes against the light of the dawning sun. Her pale face was scrunched up in disgust, but it was impossible to miss the way her body seemed to relax now she was out in the open air. 

_Same man, different casing_. River rolled her eyes. “Get me a TARDIS then and neither of us will have to suffer this indignity again.” 

The Doctor glanced briefly up the desolate path, like she was thinking about something, and then shrugged her slim shoulders. “Nah. I think you cause enough trouble without one.” 

“Then I’ll just keep borrowing yours when you’re not looking,” said River. 

The banter was familiar, but the responding feeble smile was even more hollow than it had been back at the beginning. The beginning for _him_ that was, not for River. There had never been a time in their relationship when she hadn’t been irrevocably invested. 

The Doctor spun around then, sagging in relief once she was facing the tall, blue police box. She staggered towards it on trembling legs, and River took a couple of long steps to catch up. River wouldn’t dare reach out a hand to steady her, though an ache in her heart compelled her to do so, but she would make sure she was within arms length just in case the Doctor _did_ need catching. It turned out there was no need, because when the Doctor did stumble it was directly into the TARDIS wall. 

River glanced up, simultaneously seeing and feeling the old machine whirr to life. A soft glow lit up the small windows and the door clicked open. 

“Hello, again,” said the Doctor quietly. “Attempt two, yeah?” 

The TARDIS hummed with something...remorse? Then the Doctor was in and moving at a speed that River wouldn’t have credited her with being able to achieve given the state she was in. She followed in slowly behind her, relishing the jolt of happiness she always felt from the TARDIS when she was on board. It was always nice to know the old girl missed her when she was away. 

For a few moments, River watched silently as the Doctor edged around the TARDIS console like a skittish cat, all the while muttering soothing words to the machine. She couldn’t quite make out what she was saying but the tone was more than enough to stoke River’s concern. 

“You’ve redecorated,” she said, looking around at the golden crystals protruding from the floor that seemed to create a loose but protective grasp over the console in the centre of the room. The controls looked as though they’d been cobbled together from scraps taken from a WW1 flight command centre and then given a steampunk reskin. All in all the mishmash didn’t make a terrible amount of sense.

The Doctor’s head popped up and she grinned, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Yeah. Do you like it?” 

“I certainly do,” said River. The Doctor’s expression brightened and River was struck with the irritating realisation that she’d do whatever it took to keep that silly smile on her face. _One day_ , she thought, _I’ll meet a version of the Doctor and it won’t be love at first psychological trauma_. “How long has it been like this?” _How long have you been like this?_

The Doctor turned her attention back to whatever it was she was doing and River edged closer to get a better look. _Altering the shield strength_ , she thought. Wait no. _Putting the shields up._ She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. And why had the shields been down in the first place, one might ask. 

“Couple of years, I think?” said the Doctor. She pulled on what looked like an old copper pipe and flipped a bronze switch back and forth a few times. “Hard to tell really. Feel like I’ve lived centuries in the last few weeks alone.” 

River wondered if she’d have been less forthright had she not been so obviously exhausted. “That bad, love?” she asked, trying to keep her voice light.

The Doctor shrugged and then pulled down a lever. Machinery clanked somewhere below their feet and River knew it would only be a matter of time before the Doctor was down there tampering with wires and a soldering iron so everything ran a bit more smoothly. Or a bit less smoothly. It would depend on the Doctor’s mood at the time.

“Where are we?” the Doctor then asked. She walked around the console and leaned backwards against it. Unwashed blonde hair created a limp frame around her pale face, but more troubling still was the look of utter defeat in her eyes. 

“Darillium,” said River. She didn’t bother to withdraw her diary from her pocket. She had a feeling she wouldn’t need to and based on the Doctor's responding smile, she was right. “You’re asleep,” River added. “Completely of your own volition, of course. I had absolutely nothing to do with it.” 

A look of vague disapproval shadowed the Doctor’s face, but River knew she wasn’t really annoyed with her. Annoyed with herself (or himself, in this case) for having allowed himself to have been tricked in such an obvious way. The Doctor had seen her hallucinogenic lipstick more than enough times by now to be able to distinguish it from normal lipstick. She had only himself to blame. _Bless._

“Now,” she said, “you are in dire need of a bath and some clean clothes, so why don’t you tell me where we’re headed and you can go and sort yourself out.” 

The Doctor looked down at herself and then wrinkled her nose, perhaps at the smell. “Oof. You might have a point there.” 

“I always have a point, love,” she said. 

“Not much chance to shower in...wherever I was. Or any chance at all to be honest.” 

“Purgatory,” River supplied. She wouldn’t expect everyone to have her encyclopedic knowledge of the universe’s jails and prisons, but she was surprised the Doctor hadn’t known. “Maximum security prison just off the asteroid belt in the Skyllian Verge. Wouldn’t recommend it as a holiday destination; the locals are very unfriendly. Especially when they correctly think you’ve stolen one of their precious dragon eggs.” 

“Aptly named,” said the Doctor. Her eyes flickered to the side and she fell silent. Not even a shake of her head at the last part because she was far too busy sulking.

“All right,” said River loudly. The Doctor jumped. “That’s quite enough of that. You clearly can’t be trusted on your own so you just sit there and behave yourself until I’m done.” 

“I can be on my own,” the Doctor protested, but she didn’t bother moving as River took control of the TARDIS. She’d just take them to the time vortex for now. It would be safer than landing anywhere, because it didn’t seem as though her Doctor was up for an adventure right now and even with the best intentions that was probably where they’d end up. “In a minute though. I just need...a rest.” 

“You’ve been resting for a fortnight,” said River. The TARDIS controls were cool and welcoming beneath her fingers and in the back of her mind she could feel the old machine directing her around this new layout. She didn’t need the assistance, but she appreciated it all the same. 

She pulled down on the final lever and the TARDIS began to groan and wheeze around them. River felt that strange sense of temporary displacement in the back of her naval that always came when she travelled through time. It was something Amy and Rory had claimed to never have felt, so she assumed it due to her innate connection to the TARDIS rather than something that just happened with the act of time travel. The Doctor felt it too, she was sure, though River had never asked. 

Then it stopped. They were safe for now, hurtling through time. 

For a moment, River’s fingers gripped tighter around the bar that ran along the lower edges of the TARDIS controls. Then she breathed out and willed her shoulders to relax. The Doctor still sat beside her, eyes closed and unmoving and radiating misery. It was a shame, River thought, that this visit was being completely overshadowed from whatever recent trauma the Doctor had endured. She really was quite beautiful and right now River couldn’t even enjoy it. All of those years wasted lusting after a man when there was a woman she could have wasted her time lusting after instead. Or at least as well as. 

“Okay,” said River, and the Doctor cracked open an eye. “Up, showered, and then we can talk.”   
  


* * *

  
Tempted though she had been by the gratuitously large bathtub, River had decided not to join the Doctor while she cleaned herself up. The Doctor hadn’t told her to leave, nor had she asked her to stay, but it felt a level of intimacy she hadn’t yet reached with this version of her husband (wife?). Neither could she be sure how this Doctor would feel about allowing herself to have been seen in such a vulnerable state once she started to recover from whatever it was causing her such distress. The TARDIS would alert her if her presence was needed.

Instead, River allowed the TARDIS to direct her down a dozen or so corridors leading to a spacious looking office complete with two dark bookcases and a heavy wooden desk in the middle. The second she stepped through the door she was enveloped by the smell of old paper and tea, and instinctively knew that this room had belonged to _her_ Doctor. _Her current Doctor_ , she mentally corrected. The one waiting for her back in Darillium. 

She closed the door behind her and walked further into the room, basking in the gentle glow of dawning sunlight streaming through the illusionary windows. She was sure that no matter the time or location, in this room it was always the break of a day, full of hope and promise. 

The wooden flooring became a woolen rug beneath her feet and she moved around the desk and sat down in the well worn chair behind it. What had this office been used for? How many hours had the Doctor spent sitting in this very spot? She rested her hands flat against the wood and looked around, letting out a startled laugh when she saw a photograph of her own face looking back at her. 

“Sentimental idiot,” she said quietly, eyes then sliding over to the picture of his granddaughter. Prestigious company. 

On the other side of the desk sat a cup containing a collection of old sonic screwdrivers next to a bust of Beethoven. A notebook and pen sat to the right of her hand, but she didn’t open it. She dared not. All in all it was exactly the kind of aesthetic she’d have expected from her husband. 

River swallowed, suddenly overcome by a profound sense of loss and nostalgia. There was a reason this room had been hidden so deeply in the TARDIS, just as there was a reason for the thin layer of dust that she had been studiously ignoring. 

“You all right?” asked a voice at the door. 

River’s head shot up in surprise. It wasn’t often someone snuck up on her without her notice. 

“I’m fine,” she said, reflexively. She must have been in there longer than she’d thought.

The Doctor stepped into the office and looked around, face unreadable. She was clean now, cheeks pink from the heat of the water, and dressed in clothes very similar to the ones River had already seen her in sans coat. Now cleaned of filth and grease, her hair had taken on a lighter hue of blonde, though still obviously dulled by the lack of sunlight it had seen in who knew how long. She looked better, superficially. 

“It’s okay if you’re not,” the Doctor said with a shrug. 

Was it, River wondered. Novel. 

“How does he die?” she asked. “How did he die?” 

The Doctor paused, eyes flickering back to the door. Always looking for a quick escape. 

“Never mind,” said River. She sighed, and shook her head in an attempt to rid herself of the sudden malaise that had come over her. It didn’t matter, really. When she was done here she would return to her Doctor, who was gloriously and moodily alive. Nobody lived forever, so she wasn’t sure why she was taken aback by the evidence that her Doctor would be no exception. “Spoilers, I suppose?” 

It was either the right or the wrong thing to say, because the ghost of a smile crossed the Doctor’s face. “He died doing the right thing. The kind thing.” 

It was of little comfort to River, but she imagined it was comforting for the Doctor. 

“Well,” she said, and then she cleared her throat, “there’s only enough room on this TARDIS for one of us to mope.” River rose from the desk, casting a final glance back at the photograph of herself, and crossed the room to where the Doctor stood. “With me, soldier.” She held out a hand and the Doctor hesitated before taking it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait for this. Covid19, yanno? Bit of a stress. And then I got stuck in that cycle that I imagine many writers do where the longer you don't write something the more pressure you put on yourself to write and to write well and the harder it gets. So anyway I decided to split this chapter into two parts because if I've posted some of it at least I can stop editing it to death. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope everyone is doing all right with their new normal.


End file.
